#Junkie (GearShark #1)(12)

I decided to bypass his posturing and what would be an arrogant and/or lukewarm introduction. I mean, seriously. The guy liked to stand around and let people know how great he thought he was. I was tired of it.

And it was cold as a room full of ex-girlfriends out here.

“Hey, man,” I said and offered a fist to the newcomer. “Name’s Drew. That was some good driving tonight at the track.”

The newcomer’s eyes flared with surprise over my casual greeting. He was also surprised I’d complimented his driving skills.

Or maybe he was surprised I knew he was the one driving tonight.

After a quick glance in Lorhaven’s direction, he recovered fast and held up his own fist to pound it out. “Thanks. Name’s Arrow.”

Arrow, which was probably not his real name but something he chose for himself, was a kid. Well, okay, he wasn’t a kid, per se. Calling him that only made me feel like an old man. Or maybe it was the fact he seemed like a kid to me that made me feel old.

He couldn’t be more than nineteen, which made him green in my book. He was tall, close to six feet, and skinny as hell. His feet and hands were big, though, which only fed into the fact he was young and had yet to fill in.

Arrow had blond hair, and not the natural blond either. This was a total dye job, bleach blond. It was parted on the side, longer on the right and buzzed short on the left. He was dressed in ripped-up skinny jeans, an oversized black hoodie, and a pair of black high-tops.

He kinda looked like a Justin Bieber wannabe.

Trent stayed where he was, but he did give the kid a what up gesture with his chin, which he returned.

“Meet my new driver, Forrester,” Lorhaven said and slapped Arrow on the shoulder. “I might not be able to drive at the speedway anymore, but I can sponsor.”

Interesting.

“Didn’t know you sponsored drivers,” I noted, making sure I didn’t sound too intrigued.

“I don’t usually. But Arrow here, he knows how to handle a car, and with a little bit of guidance, I’m thinking he could go far.”

“So you think you’re going to make money off him,” I deadpanned.

Arrow stiffened a little, and Lorhaven laughed. “Sometimes it’s just all about the love of the cars.”

“And sometimes it’s about getting your foot into doors where it’s already been booted out,” Trent added casually.

Lorhaven ignored Trent completely. “Since we are… colleagues of a sort, I figured it was only right to introduce you so when you see him around, you’ll know whose taillights you’re seeing.”

“How very professional of you,” I replied.

“This mean you won’t be driving anymore?” Trent asked.

Lorhaven laughed. “I’ll always be driving.” His eyes shifted back to me. “See you next race.”

“Assuming it’s one you’re allowed to attend.”

His eyes narrowed. I smiled, but it wasn’t exactly a friendly good-bye kind of smile.

“Careful, Forrester. You might have more control at the speedway than I do right now, but I own the rest of this world around here. One word from me and you’d be blackballed.”

Trent sprang forward, and I pushed a hand in the center of his chest to keep him back. I didn’t need him to fight my battles.

Lorhaven grinned because he knew he struck a nerve. “Back to your cage, guard dog.”

Trent made a sound, and I pushed him back again.

“You should know not to pick a fight you can’t win.” I cautioned him.

He started to make some stupid remark, something that would likely piss off Trent even more. I lifted a hand and cut him off. “Careful, Lorhaven.” I echoed his warning. “Don’t want anyone to get the impression you’re trying to blackball me… Word might get around you just want me gone because I can outdrive you.”

Arrow tensed and stepped forward. Lorhaven made a sound, and the kid fell back.

I grinned with all my teeth. “Ah, my guard dog’s bigger than yours.”

White-hot anger—or maybe it was jealousy—lit up his face. I took some pleasure in it. This guy was a class-A asshat.

“Let’s go,” Lorhaven ground out. Arrow went back around the car while he yanked open the driver’s door of the Camaro.

“See ya, kid,” Trent called.

I held back a snicker. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one that felt like an old man around the boy.

In true teenage fashion, he got in the car and slammed the door. Lorhaven suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

With one last flickering glance in my direction, he slid in and shut the door. Even though the glass was tinted, I was able to see enough movement to know Lorhaven slapped the punk in the back of the head.

Trent and I stood there silently and watched until the Camaro swerved around the corner and out of sight.

“Ten to one that kid’s real name is Justin,” was the first thing Trent said.

I guffawed. “Dude. I was thinking the same thing.”

“He has no idea what he’s doing getting mixed up with someone like Lorhaven.”

I eyed him. “You really don’t like him.”

He made a rude sound. “No. I don’t.”

“He just wants a set of eyes at the speedway. Fucking kills him he has no idea what goes on there anymore.” I gazed off in the direction they left.